


Major Wardrobe Malfunction Doesn't Begin to Cover It

by elbatross



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Emotionally Crippled Erik Is Fun To Read, Fashion & Couture, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, Sleepy Charles, Unresolved Sexual Tension, What Not To Wear AU, not quite sex but not quite sfw either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elbatross/pseuds/elbatross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Charles Xavier is pretty hopeless when it comes to his wardrobe, and his family and students take it upon themselves to get him onto "Not Wearing That You Won't" as a guest. Fashion consultants Emma Frost and Erik Lehnsherr forcibly put him on the path to becoming as sleek and stylish as everyone knows he can be. For Erik, this episode's taping is going to be the most challenging to survive yet.</p><p>A "What Not to Wear" AU for XMFC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aesc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesc/gifts).



If it weren’t for the grandpa cardigan, Erik would have sworn that the man he met the day before was a student at the local university, not a professor. The only other thing that confirmed his suspicions that the man WAS the very Professor Charles F. Xavier that he was there for was the carefully masked look of terror hidden under the pleasant smile on his face. If that wasn’t enough proof, the rumpled waves of his hair and barely ironed slacks were a dead giveaway. Erik tipped his sunglasses down a fraction of an inch to get a better look, shuddered, and pushed them back up his nose.

There was potential, he reassured himself. The man was a tragic mess fashion wise, but damn it if that frightened smile was any sort of sign it could have meant that underneath all those frumpy layers and floppy hair he might be a pretty hot guy. Bright blue eyes, pale skin, lips redder than the underside of his co-host’s Louboutins…

Oh, right. His co-host. She was already making her way down the stairs of the hall to greet him, the camera man doing his best to keep up with the her. Emma wrinkled her nose as she scanned down Charles’s entire being, already rattling off the introductory statements about their show. When Charles started to politely protest their presence, Erik struck.

“No, you aren’t quite understanding the gravity of this situation, Professor. These students of yours are prepared to break into your home and set it on fire just to get rid of your wardrobe. Honestly, I’d siphon the gasoline from my car myself to give them a head start.” Erik crossed his arms as Charles’s jaw dropped, a small noise of protest accompanying it.

“I-it’s not that bad, is it?” The class remained silent, even the faculty members who’d rushed in just to get on film. Charles nervously fluffed up his hair and attempted to straighten his cardigan and brush off a few crumbs off the front before presenting himself with open arms and a grin. The response from the crowd didn’t change. He sighed in defeat. “Oh, alright, take me in.” He presented his wrists almost as if he was under arrest, which was went Erik made his way down to join Emma. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into as much of a smile as he was contractually allowed to display, clasping a hand over a surprisingly solid wrist. Things were always much easier when they submitted early on.

“Charles, you can only go up from here. If you somehow manage to screw up even worse than this I will personally find the person who allowed you to commit this level of fashion suicide and offer you as evidence in a court of law for assault with a deadly weapon on multiple counts.” The professor pursed his lips and furrowed his brows in displeasure, which caused a small curl of heat to travel down Erik’s belly.

Oh yes, so much untapped potential. He’d have a time with this one, and if he could pull it off the payoff would be the greatest transformation in the history of the program. Emma knew it too, which was why she’d already started to tap out an email on her phone of requirements for their trip to send to Charles even though they hadn’t started the paperwork for the show yet. Professor Xavier’s class was going to go from feeling ho hum about the man to hot for teacher if it took every last ounce of energy from the team of “Not Dressed Like That You Won’t”.

“Professor Xavier, if we weren’t the ones for the job, your class wouldn’t have called us for help,” Emma informed him. Charles shot a glare out to his students. “I suggest you get a start on that paperwork so we can take it with us before we leave tomorrow morning. Be ready by five, the dean has already has a replacement for you and you have time off. And before you say anything else, yes, this is that dire of a situation. See you bright and early, professor. I think we have all the film we need for today.” She didn’t wait for Erik before leaving, but he didn’t seem to mind. For as ruthless as his reputation made him out to be, Emma was far more sensitive to mismatched colors and ill fitting clothing than Erik would ever be. Erik assumed she was heading back to the car before she became sick in front of an audience. None of them were dressed as well as they should have been, but at least they knew better than their instructor.

“She’s not the friendliest consultant I’ve met,” Charles remarked.

“Neither am I. We’re not supposed to be. It works much better that way.” He still had a grip on Charles’s wrist, letting it go now that he realized it was there. “Emma should have left you a list of what to bring. We have your number, don’t try to hide from us and don’t use money as an excuse not to go. This is an all expense-paid trip, and if you don’t show up you will be sued for the full amount. Good day.” Charles sputtered as Erik turned heel and departed. Erik only hoped that his social skills weren’t as bad as his wardrobe.

—-

“Open his bag.”

“Emma, if we do this here, we’ll get a ticket. I know it’s bad, but we should avoid getting the driver arrested for littering on a public highway. It’ll take even longer to get rid of his dreadful stuff if that happens. Besides, what if they made us take it all back afterwards?” Still, Erik was tempted to obey, particularly now that he’d had a glimpse of what the rest of Charles’s closet looked like. They could probably even get away with it now that the man in question was napping against his shoulder.

“…I suppose you’re right.” She crossed her legs, even while in the front seat.

“It’d be a better idea to drop it all off on one of our stops.”

“I knew there was a reason I put up with you.”

Charles hardly noticed that his bag was lighter until he checked into his hotel room and went to grab his outfit choices for the review and critique section that evening. Erik told him that his luggage had been lost in transit when they met up to film, sounding almost too smug for Charles’s liking.

“I don’t understand how a full suitcase of clothing could magically vanish, yet my toiletries and paperwork seem to be in tact. What exactly did you both do, because I don’t even have clean pants to wear.”

“The foundation to a great wardrobe starts with quality underpants, Charles. I can’t allow you to wear underwear from the pack beneath carefully constructed outfits and still be able to sleep well at night. We have all the photographs we need of you in your various…selections.” As the viewing area was having the final lighting set up, he lead Charles to sit on the Couch of Judgement. “You sister was kind enough to provide us with everything that we needed.”

“Raven? She’s in on this?” Charles buried his face in his hands. “I’m going to kill her.” Emma chose that moment to join him on the couch, keeping her distance and fanning herself with a large white sunhat.

“I think she sent you here because you’re already managing to do that. It’s just been a slower process,” she grumbled. The director called for thirty seconds until they started to film, so Erik situated himself between the two to prevent Emma from reaching over and disrobing Charles on the spot. As terrible as his current cardigan was, he’d at least wore one of his better options on set that day, and having clothing that complimented Charles’s eyes was good inspiration. Plus, Erik wouldn’t let Emma have the pleasure of getting Charles out of his clothes before he could do it himself. He wasn’t oblivious to the shape of those arms when the sleeves were rolled up. Erik almost missed his cue oogling the path of vessels that were visible on Charles’s forearms, pulling himself together and tearing his eyes away to get a good look at the screen.

“Those are sweatpants.”

“Great observation, Erik. They’re sweatpants with stains on them in public,” sneered Emma. “You aren’t even sweating, don’t give me the excuse that you were out running.”

“I was sick! That’s a CVS, I don’t think the clerks cared very much anyhow.”

“CVS, Starbucks, or the damn Presidential Inauguration, you committed a fashion felony that you should never again repeat. You’re lucky you’ve lasted this long. Next picture.” She clicked over to another photograph, this time a cell phone shot of Charles in class wearing one of his usual “I was in the lab and had to rush over to teach” ensembles. This one featured coffee stains on the sleeves and unkempt hair.

That evening was one of the longest days of filming Erik could remember having to attend, only due in part to them needing to do take after take because of a colorful outburst from either himself or Emma at every new picture. He didn’t think they would have made it out of there alive if they had done an in person assessment. They really did have their work cut out for them.

Filming that day wrapped up with them making a quick run to a local department store to buy an outfit, sleepwear, and briefs for Charles, seeing as he had none in his hotel room and his consultants didn’t trust him to go alone. Emma had surrendered for the night, racing home to comfort herself with reruns of Fashion Week and leaving the men to themselves. Erik didn’t want to bother with a driver at that hour, so he escorted Charles to his car and plugged in his iPhone for a little entertainment on the ride over. Charles started to chuckle.

“Didn’t peg you as a punk rock man. You aren’t as frigid as I thought, Erik.” He smiled at him, lifting an eyebrow and reaching for the phone before Erik gave him a small nod that permitted him to look through his library. Something about Charles made him seem trustworthy and vulnerable. He was betting on it being the cardigan and soft hair. No, that wouldn’t do for a young professor at all. He’d have to look more intimidating if he wanted respect from his students and peers. Erik made a mental note to pick up a few things from the stylist before letting Charles turn in for the night.

“Of course not. I’m not the one named Frost.” He turned into the parking garage and took a spot reserved just for the show, then led Charles inside for his first trip after grabbing the handicam he kept just for these trips from his glove box. “We’re going to collect a little footage here on our own just to get a feel for where your style deficiencies lie. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t seem to be in color, which makes this job much easier.” Erik started to have a little faith in his mission when Charles started to study him carefully, paying the most attention to his shoes and accessories before wandering off. He thought that he might even be able to just sit at the doors to the dressing room and wait for Charles to come to him for approval.

His hopes were dashed when Charles returned to the dressing room with more over-sized tops and drab trousers. He could hardly contain his groan of agony or hold on the camera as he snatched them away.

“No. Stop and look at what you’ve just brought to me. Is…is this a tweed jacket, Charles? What are you, sixty two?”

“…there are thirty three year olds who dress like this,” Charles pouted.

“Don’t let Emma hear you say that, she’d have a heart attack. Leave all this here and come, we’ve got work to do.” Erik couldn’t afford to argue with the man for a moment longer, not even for lovely lips like those. Play only came after work, and with that resolved he drug Charles off to the mens’ department for a quick lesson. A look was all Erik needed to roughly estimate Charles’s measurements and pick a few things off the rack. The only thing that mystified him was what fit of jeans would be most appropriate, but he was content in letting him try on a few different pairs until they got it right. Erik decided that simple would be well enough for now, just a few items for the next day when they’d do the bulk of the shopping. A soft black polo, some button ups, and the jeans went into the dressing room with Charles while Erik went to pick out shoes.

“Uh, Erik? I believe we have a problem…” Charles peered out from his dressing room, his cheeks ruddy.

“Well?”

“I’m not entirely sure these jeans fit properly. Are they supposed to be so, er, snug?”

“Come out and let me see, we might need to get you a size bigger.” He expected to take Charles’s side on this issue up until he got a good look, which almost caused his heart to stop in his chest. “N-no,” he quickly recovered, “jeans are supposed to fit like that. It’s in style, see? Mine fit like that too.” Sure, all of Erik’s clothing was tailored within an inch of it’s life to fit every long line of his body, but he’d never seen a man so solid and small fill out jeans the way Charles did. He’d thrown on the polo too, simple but still lovely even in it’s unaltered state and baring surprisingly toned arms. Erik was having a hard time tearing his eyes away from thick and muscular thighs while Charles complained.

“What if I have to evacuate the lab because there’s a spill or contamination? You can’t expect me to try to run in these without worrying that they’ll rip, and furthermore-“

“Turn around.” A view from the back would ultimately seal the fate of the jeans.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you want me to get Emma on the line? Do what I tell you and turn.” Charles warily watched Erik before turning. Those were definitely the perfect pair. “Those. We’re buying them and if they’re a little too snug we can have them altered. They’re a nice fit and are in style for the next few seasons. Now put on these shoes and that brown striped shirt I gave you.” He placed the shoes at Charles’s feet and watched him bend to get them on. Erik mentally congratulated himself and kept the camera filming so the audience at home would know just how well he’d done.

The complete outfit looked even better, the brown from the shoes and shirt and the black polo bringing out Charles’s bright eyes, but Erik still felt something vital was missing. He stopped the camera and sat it down to approach Charles once he’d turned around and make minor adjustments.

“You need more. I don’t know if it’s the hair, or your face, but something needs to be added. You’ve got great bone structure, so we just need to play it up. Boyish, but not too much. You already look like one of your own students.” Closer inspection drew Erik’s attention to the smattering of freckles on Charles’s skin, especially the two spots on his nose. “It’s a gift that you aren’t a woman, otherwise Emma would want to slather you in chemicals and cover up one of your most charming features.” Charles seemed to straighten up under his scrutiny, his cheeks still bright red.

“So, what do you suggest I do about that?” He swallowed thickly and glanced up at Erik from his lashes. “I don’t want to get any strange piercings or wear a necklace. It’s hardly going to be practical to wear any of this to the lab anyhow.”

“No, I don’t think either of those would be a good idea. You’re a man of science, so let’s put this into terms you can understand. The aim of you being here is to teach you the basic elements of fashion before you start formulating a style. You know that you like simple things and practicality, so keep your style neat and functional. You’re not a man who is suited to jewelry in his every day life, so that’s not the kind of man we’re going to dress you up like.” Erik’s eyes roamed over Charles’s body once more, catching on the sight of their wrists. He slipped off his own watch and slid warm metal over the other man’s hand, clasping it shut. “There. You still need something else, but this is a start.” Charles lifted his arm to inspect the watch, the gears inside visible through the face.

“Erik, I can’t take this. We could just buy me a watch and be done with it.” Even as Charles tried to refuse the gift, he couldn’t help but to glance down at it every few seconds in admiration. It really was a nice watch, very masculine and complex in brassy tones and polished gold, but there was a sentimentality in the act of giving it away that appeared to leave Charles a little shocked and possibly touched.

“They don’t make those anymore, and it suits you. Go ahead, I have plenty other watches at home that I can wear. Think of it as a gift to inspire your choices over the next three days.” He returned to the camera and pressed record once again, aiming it at Charles. “The reason this whole ensemble works for you is two fold: structure and function. The clothing is shaped with your physique in mind, and the colors compliment your skin tone and eye color. This is important for men because most generally don’t wear makeup, so we don’t have that advantage. Since your eyes are a particularly striking shade of blue, it helps to bring them out to enhance the sense of authority you need to have at your disposal as an instructor. A good fashion sense will earn you more respect, and knowing how to clothe your body is one way of using body language to your advantage.” Charles smiled, impressed by the little lecture he was getting.

“And what about function? I don’t think looking good in jeans will help me in the lab.”

“It isn’t about how you look in the jeans during your labs, it’s the material and color. A sturdy pair of jeans will last longer, and for you a dark pair of jeans will hide stains. Even if they get a little bleached or destroyed, you can pass off those accidents as statements in this day and age. Solid polos and tees are also easy to replace should you ruin them and easily paired with something patterned, which you should be thanking me for because it means you can pick up all the disastrous sweaters and cardigans you want and still have them look good.”

“I think I’m starting to appreciate this experience a little more,” he replied, glancing back at his reflection in the three quarter mirror. “And I think I can stand to have jeans that fit a little tighter than I’m used to if I look this good from the back. Maybe it’ll keep my class on their toes.” Charles rocked his hips and grinned at his reflection while Erik tried to concentrate on the thought of Emma ripping him limb from limb for excluding her from this particular trip to keep from having an embarrassing situation arise in public.

“Keep that up and you can count on it,” Erik muttered. “Go ahead and change back into your stuff so we can get the last of your things for the night. Tomorrow will be another busy day, and you’ll have both Emma and I picking you apart left and right.” He took Charles’s leave to change as a moment to recollect himself and plan out the next few days mentally. The haircut would come sometime in the next day, the only change in their regular routine on the show because getting rid of the extra length of his locks would help them bring out his face. Maybe if Charles also let his facial hair go for a day, it would add to his overall look. He obviously had the potential to pull off the classic rebel look, why not indulge in that when he already had a very successful career? Students would line up to take a class with a highly confident and very sexy professor running it, and Charles would most likely be thrilled at the prospect of having more scientists in the world that claimed to be inspired by his teachings. If they were anything like Erik, that wouldn’t be the only thing that inspired them.

Their trip around the store ended with them picking out underwear and pajamas, which Charles still had very little understanding of. Erik allowed him only one pair of novelty briefs, which to his disgust were printed with little rats, sharks, and beakers. He honestly had no clue what the connection was, nor was he going to argue with Charles about it when the man had agreed to buy the very plain options he’d presented. The only thing they seemed to agree on were socks, both of them particularly fond of a couple of argyle pairs they’d discovered on the clearance rack.

“It never goes out of style, just like black and jeans. Always remember that.”

“Finally, something we can agree on.” They exchanged smiles and headed to the register. Erik pulled the card set aside for this episode from his wallet and presented it to the cashier once everything was rung up, turning to Charles to begin to explain how payment would work when Charles surprised him once again. The man had pulled a pair of older glasses from his pocket and was squinting incredulously at the display of the register at the price, baffled that they’d spent so much on so little.

“Where’d those come from?” Charles turned to give Erik his attention now, frowning.

“Come on, these too? Look, I’m not doing contacts just because I have a little trouble reading from time to time, and I’m not always going to be wearing them.” Erik shook his head.

“Actually, it’s entirely the opposite. Those glasses look stunning on you.” Charles flushed yet again, Erik quickly adding on to his statement. “Your eyes and brows are striking enough that they don’t detract from your overall visual appeal. In fact, the glasses add to it. Looks like you get to keep more than just your cardigans.”

“I’m not sure if that was an insult or a compliment, but thank you, I suppose.” He cleared his throat and took both the card and bags from the cashier when they were presented to him. “I think I should be heading back to the hotel now. I’d really like to get something to eat and some rest before you and Miss Frost drag me around the city tomorrow.”

“Right,” Erik nodded. “I’ll drop you off, then.” The walk back to the car and the ride to the hotel were silent, yet it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. There was a sense of accomplishment hanging in the atmosphere, along with something a little heavier if Erik had to admit it. Charles was making steady progress, and from there things could only get better. Maybe this episode would be the one with the highest ratings that season and make up for the one with the kindergarten teacher who wore nothing but neon dresses that was barely going to make it past the FFC for the sheer amount of expletives Erik had screamed at her the whole time. He turned to look at Charles again, this time a full smile ready to break out on his face. His urge vanished when he remembered that Charles was toting around his iPad in a grubby canvas bag that sat on the floor of his car.

“Tomorrow, that thing goes too. We’ll get you a nice leather one.”

“Come on! I got this on sale at one of the dollar marts. It works well enough.” Erik narrowed his eyes at the remark.

“God help us both, if I so much as sense that thing in my presence tomorrow, I am chucking it into the first taxi cab I see and letting it go on it’s own voyage without you.” He pulled up in front of the hotel, unlocking the door. “Your ride will be here at seven tomorrow morning. Our first stop will be the studio. Eat, rest, wear what we got today.” Charles gathered his things, the expression of offense dropping from his face when Erik got the last phrase out.

“…even your watch?” The little swell of something was back again. Erik cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Wear it. Good night, Charles.”

“You too.” Erik watched Charles until he was sure he’d safely gotten inside, then pulled up Emma’s number on his phone before dialing out. “Emma? Can you get Angel to be at the studio at eight tomorrow morning? I want to push up Charles’s session with the stylist. …yes, it really is that important, you’ll thank me when it’s done.” He waited for her reply, looking up at the seventh floor of the building until a light came on and a shadow appeared in the window. “She can? Perfect.”


	2. Chapter 2

Day two was the most difficult day in Erik’s opinion. It started with a call to Charles’s room at six fifteen that morning, which was never answered even after repeated attempts. He and Emma showed up at the hotel ten minutes early to check up on Charles and deliver his new leather bag, growing anxious as minutes passed without seeing anyone leave the building. Erik headed up at five past seven to fetch him and was greeted by a sleepy, unshaven professor attempting to stumble out in his night clothes.

“Charles, we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry. You were supposed to be ready at least fifteen minutes ago.” Erik pushed him back into the room, handing the bag over and thanking whomever was listening above that the man had at least had the sense to hang up his clothing for the next day in the closet. “Transfer all your stuff into that, have a quick scrub up, and then we’re leaving after you’ve dressed.”

“Whaddabout shave?” Charles managed to slur out the question around a yawn, teetering next to the bed. It was a mystery that he ever managed to get out of bed to go teach every day.

“You look fine, and if it’s really a bother we’ll let the stylist take care of it. Now get going, because if Emma comes up here you’re going to have to dress in the car and listen to her bitch at you the whole way there.” Erik led him to the bathroom by the shoulders and managed to catch the door to close it only after Charles pulled his shirt off over his head. The image of flexing shoulder blades covered in spots was well worth the frustrations of dealing with this particular case. It was a few minutes before Charles wandered out of the shower in his new underpants (the black ones, Erik wordlessly rejoiced) to tug on his clothes. Charles wasn’t terribly out of shape, the extent of it meaning he was a touch soft at his middle. It was actually adorable were Erik to assign it any qualifiers, but the rest of his bulk came from muscle.

Erik was a terribly lucky man. He’d never loved his job on any other occasion than in that moment. The reverse strip tease had Charles bowing to step into fitted jeans and pawing at buttons near the hollow of his throat, only to end with him bending to slip his socks and shoes on. Charles straightened up and pushed his still damp bangs from his face, sighing wearily and once again stealing Erik’s breath from him. He mumbled to himself and glanced down at his wrist, heading back to the bed to sit next to Erik.

“…watch, where’d I-oh.” Erik assumed that he was still in the process of waking up and was about to chastise him for not setting an alarm when the man practically threw his body against Erik’s. If Erik hadn’t already had an erection that morning, he certainly was in danger of having one very soon. Charles squirmed on top of him, reaching for the headboard.

“Charles, what the hell? What’re you doing?” His answer came when the watch made contact with his forehead and Charles whispered a pleased “ah!” In any other situation, Erik was sure he would have found the exclamation sexy. Charles took the watch and sat back to straddle Erik’s hips as he put it on and smiled. There was a moment of silence before Erik shifted cautiously and Charles moved from his lap to put on his glasses and bag.

“I’m ready. Please say you’re going to get me coffee before we do anything else.” His voice held the hint of a whine. Erik sighed.

“Yes, yes, let’s go before you cause me any more trouble.” He got the door and followed Charles out. When the made it to the car, Emma took in Erik’s appearance and the light cut on his forehead caused by the incident with the watch and smirked. She was going to pay for all of their drinks as repayment for saddling Erik with the task of getting Charles on schedule, even if the previous moment of accidental frotting was enjoyable at the minimum.

\---

“Don’t touch my hair.” Charles swatted the stylist’s hands away when she started to tease his waves.

“You’re going grey, but I think you can get away with it as long as you have a full head of hair. It’s so thick, though! Can’t wait to get my shears into this mess.” Angel Salvadore was a bubbly and impish woman wrapped in just enough clothing to cover herself and still proudly display her tattoos. Charles didn’t trust her, but with Emma and Erik staring him down in the corner he really didn’t have other choices.

“Do you promise not to royally mess it up?”

“I promise. Those two would slaughter me if I ruined one of their projects. Just like elementary school.” She spun Charles in the chair so he was facing away from the mirror, cupping his face in her hands. “You’ll look totally hot, Professor. So hot the kids will look up from their blogging to actually listen to your lectures about ancient Greek temples.” His brows furrowed.

“I teach biological sciences and genetics.”

“Trust me, after this team is finished with you, you could teach them about ancient Greek temples and they’d never know the difference until exams came around. Now shut up and let me work my magic.” He was examined from every angle before she moved him from his chair to the one in front of the sink to wash his hair. Erik watched on with a touch of envy, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. Ever observant, Emma nudged at him with her purse.

“Entertaining morning, Erik? I know you’ve managed to anger our offenders on more than one occasion, but I’ve never heard of any of them getting one over on you. Much less leave evidence.” Emma pulled out her compact of powder to dab at the cleaned and sealed cut. “Were it me, I would have made them hold filming until I was recovered. Then again, you never let them cover up that scar of yours anyhow, so I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing for looking wounded.”

“Good thing I’m not like you then. Not nearly as weak.” He took a step away from her before Emma could bring down one of her heavy wedge booties on his foot. He had to hand it to her, she never picked her outfits without making sure they were just on the edge of dangerous. “It fell on my head when he was searching for his watch, if you can believe it.”

“You mean your watch?” They engaged in a battle of silent glares until Charles broke the tension with his laughter. “What is it this time, Professor Xavier?”

“It tickles.” Angel had dried his hair and had started snipping, the clippings dropping down the back of his neck despite the cape. He tried his best to remain still for his stylist, but she wasn’t phased in the least after years of working on nervous clients. Both Emma and Erik decided to watch his transformation, shaggy brunette hair being cut away and shaped into something much shorter on the sides while retaining some length in the front. She sculpted his sideburns and groomed the little bit of ginger scruff starting to form on his face so that it’d come in as stylishly as possible. The last step was to run a bit of product through it and push his bangs up to gently wave into their final position.

“You look much sexier with your hair pushed back. Don’t you guys agree?” Angel stepped away to present Charles to the consultants for their scrutiny. Emma looked away from her phone to answer with a noncommittal sound, but Erik was once again too enraptured with his face to say much. “Alright, Prof, time for you to see how you look.” The chair swiveled around until Charles could admire his own reflection, a handsome smile curling his lips.

“Well, I didn’t expect to like this, but I have to say you’ve got great talent, Miss Salvadore.” He reached up to rake his fingers through his newly cut hair, pleased to find that it could only be improved with constant ruffling. “And how practical. Thank you.” Charles took her hand to kiss the back of it and give her a saucy little wink. Erik’s fist tightened into his elbow.

“What a charmer. Go on, get out of here and take your torture like a man.” Angel turned him over to his keepers and started to clean up her station, the camera men starting to pack up to move locations. Charles stopped in front of Erik, awaiting direction from him while worrying his plush bottom lip between his teeth in excitement. Erik wasn’t sure how a simple hair cut could make the man so willing to go along with them, but he wasn’t going to let himself get so distracted by Charles’s new look that he forgot their objective.

“Car. We’re going to the car,” he managed. “And then we’re going out to instruct you on how to shop for yourself, help you make a few purchases, and have lunch. You’ll be let loose after lunch and trusted for as long as we allow to pick your own things, and if you can’t follow our guidelines we’ll swoop in to save you from yourself.”

“So little faith you both have in me.” Charles apparently chose that moment to give Erik his most disarming smile and nearly took him off track until Emma intervened.

“You must be blind if you haven’t seen what you looked like before today and expect us to have complete trust in you,” she snapped, taking Charles by the hand to drag him out. “Erik, come. We have miracles to perform and angels to make sing.” As they left the room, Erik gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the cosmetologist singing in the background.

\---

From the moment Charles and Emma exited the car to start their shopping, the two had been going head to head on every decision. Charles persisted when it came to keeping at least one item of tweed in his wardrobe, while Emma threatened to turn the rest of his hair into an ugly tea cozy if he even mentioned the material again. Erik slipped away to purchase the jacket for Charles when they were too distracted to notice he was missing. Really, this one wasn’t so terrible, and he was a professor…

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Erik Lehnsherr? You’re trying to buy tweed under Emma’s nose to please a participant on the show.” The woman at the counter was too nervous to immediately scan the item, only taking action when Erik growled at her. “Just ring the damn thing up already!” He had the bag sent with one of the crew members to be put in the car and returned to the bickering pair in menswear just in time to find Emma yanking a bright yellow and blue tie away from Charles.

“I’m perfectly capable of making tenure wearing what I like!”

“I beg to differ! What kind of school would hire a man who can’t put the right tie to his shirts?! Obviously one not up to snuff.”

“Talk about me all you’d like, but don’t you speak ill of my employer!” Charles reached for the tie, nearly taking out a camera operator on the way. Erik quickly grabbed him by the waist to lead him off to another area of the store. He made him take a few deep breaths and handed him the nearest sweater he deemed acceptable.

“Here, take this and go find a pair of slacks that match it. The fit doesn’t matter for now, we can always take them in. It’s grey, so that shouldn’t be too hard of a task for you to handle. I’ll pick out a shirt for you and we’ll regroup with Emma to find a jacket.” In his attempts to calm Charles, he’d only managed to get him more upset, evident in the imprint of teeth on Charles’s lip and the set of his eyebrows. Apprehension was woefully a beautiful look for him, Erik thought.

“I don’t think I’m enjoying being treated like an abused Ken doll. Can’t I just wear those jeans and some plain shirts and be left alone?” As if on cue, Charles’s eyes threatened to spill tears. Even though he wanted to feel bad and cave in, Erik caught on in an instant and his expression hardened.

“That’s not going to work, Charles. Raven already warned us about your little trick, and were if Emma instead of me standing here she’d probably have you sedated for the rest of the taping.” Charles immediately frowned and wiped his eyes, dropping the act entirely. “You can wear what you’d like once you have it in your head that they need to follow the guidelines we tell you. Now go.” He snapped and pointed towards the trousers, watching Charles turn heel and grumble. “And I thought Emma was difficult.”

Things got better by the time he came to Charles’s dressing stall with a variety of shirts in various patterns and ties that would suit his tastes without offending Emma. Charles proudly stepped out to model the outfit.

“I don’t believe it. He’s well dressed and the pleats on those slacks are actually halfway decent. Erik, some days you can work wonders.” Emma sidled up next to Erik.

“Actually,” Charles butted in triumphantly, “I picked the trousers and chose the shirt from what Erik gave me, so I think it’s only fair that I get at least some of the credit.” He beamed at Erik when Emma’s carefully maintained persona of coldness warmed up a fraction.

“Well, Professor Xavier, I suppose I was wrong about your employer’s capability to hire someone with a backbone. Keep this up and we might have to hold you for ransom. If we can get you to learn how to dress, that is.” Her statements steadily filled Erik with dread, because when Emma took a liking to someone it always ended badly for him. Erik had only managed to escape Angel’s clutches because he always managed to “have something come up” on the occasions that she and Emma invited him to come along. This was for the show, however, and he knew that Emma would milk this newly founded truce for all it’s worth.

“He also said something about getting a jacket, but I can’t begin to imagine needing anything else to go with this.” Charles examined his current clothing, trying to tug the sleeves of the shirt to cover his knuckles. Emma clicked at him and slapped his hand away. “Ow!”

“You’re going to have to break that habit. The more swamped you are in your clothing, the more likely people are to mistake you for some spotty hipster heading for the nearest Starbucks to leech off the wifi instead of an accomplished adult. If you want to cover your knuckles, buy gloves.” She took his hand in hers to make a study of it. “Actually, that’s a tempting thought…you’d do well with a sturdy trench coat and lambskin gloves.”

“Oh?” Charles watched as Emma turned his hand over. “Well, if you’re certain, I don’t think it could hurt to try. I’m not sure how well dark and brooding would turn out for me, but that is the look people seem to like.”

“‘Dark and brooding’ is what you call the look Jaws over there chooses to adopt. On you, it will be sophistication.” The dismissive wave she directed at Erik only served to purposely sour his mood as she nudged Charles back into the stall. “Change out of that and add it to the pile, then we’ll really get to work. Lehnsherr’s slacking off back here and if he gets too bored he’ll probably wander off to arrange the tie bars by hue and sheen.” Erik’s eyes narrowed.

“I never understood the purpose of those, actually. I mean, what is it about a little piece of metal that clips onto a strip of fabric that makes a world of difference. It’s a pointless add on.” As Charles stepped out, Erik nearly backed him up against the door.

“Go ahead and repeat that.”

“I-I’m sorry?” Charles moved a palm to Erik’s chest to get some distance. “What’d I do wrong this time?” By now, Emma was doing all she could to hold back an amused huff.

“Charles, you’ll have to ignore Erik’s defensive nature when it comes to tie bars. He’s working a collection that will probably make it into the records within the next few months and he’s got a deal with The Tie Bar to have his own line out next year. He’s obsessive.” She easily plucked the larger man away. “Erik, play nice. We haven’t even made it to lunch yet. It’s too early for murder and we aren’t rated TV-MA, so unless you’d like to switch networks for this sole episode you’d better settle down.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” he gritted out, watching Charles straighten up and run fingers through his hair once again. Erik would have liked to push him back into that dressing room for some private consulting of an entirely different nature from fashion at the moment.

“I think you do. Jackets, now.” The cameras followed her as she moved them along to continue with their morning. By lunch, the three of them were ready to be rid of one another as soon as possible and antsy from their lack of breakfast before their trip. While Emma privately dined at a little swanky restaurant in a nearby hotel, Charles was interested in picking up something from a cafe he’d seen on the way over. Erik tagged along, keeping his distance until Charles finally addressed him.

“I’ll get yours too, Erik. Despite our little spat earlier, I’m still a little more fond of your company than Miss Frost’s. Something about her is unnerving and verges on the predatory.” He ordered some terribly sweet dessert and a sandwich with a tea, awaiting Erik’s request. “Well?”

“The program is supposed to handle all costs, you know. And she’s only predatory because she has to be. You are a serial style offender, you know.” Erik moved Charles aside to get himself a cup of soup and his second coffee. He was going to need it to get through the rest of the day, he figured.

“That doesn’t mean she has to look at me like I’m a snack. She just appears out of nowhere and you only know she’s there when she starts hissing like a snake. I’m not keen on being a feeder rat, Erik. ” They took their numbers and sat at one of the tables near the window, the sun warming their spot in contrast to the deceptive chill of the day. “You’re little better about that, but at least it’s not as frightening. A little flattering, truthfully.” He chuckled and turned his attention to his cup, stirring in some sugar with an easy smile. The way the light played off the red hidden within his dark locks and cast just the right amount of shadow on his face to play up his features had Erik struggling to put a damper on his arousal. Instead, he snapped a candid photo with his phone, caught when the simulated click of a shutter went off. Charles’s smile grew even wider.

“It’s for post production. Before and after, that sort of thing,” he lied.

“You do that for every client?”

“Just the most dire cases.” He set his phone aside, wanting to take Charles’s attention away from it.

“Just how bad am I, then?”

“The worst one we’ve seen.”

“I think you’re lying. Raven said that you guys had a man on your show who worked for NASA and insisted on wearing jumpers made of cat hair.” Erik paled and nearly gagged at the mention, picking up his coffee to wash the bad taste from his mouth. “I don’t think I’m that unfortunate, I’ve just gotten sidetracked over time and stopped caring. I’ve always either had a uniform or just needed something that I wouldn’t mind having ruined if there was an accident in the lab. The only exceptions were little luxury items here or there, maybe a nice coat, tux, or my cardigans over the last few years. Science doesn’t care what I wear unless it’s a dinner at some prestigious gathering. My students like me no matter what, and I get compliments on how adorable people seem to find me, but I guess that really doesn’t amount to much if they don’t want to go home with me later.” Charles paused, mulling over his thoughts and tea. “That probably wasn’t anything you wanted to hear. Go ahead, give me some line about how this whole experience will likely change that and I’ll have men and women falling at my feet to kiss my Italian leather loafers or what have you.”

“It will, probably,” Erik shrugged. “If it helps, I’m only trying to offer you my services because other people wanted Emma and myself to give you a little help with your wardrobe. For all I care, you could revert back to your cardigans and house slippers once this is all over. It isn’t like I’d see you again after this.” Admitting that did have a bitter sting to it, but Erik had to be realistic. No matter how charming Charles was with or without their assistance, this was just going to be another job.

“You never know. I could end up right back in your overbearing clutches because I decide that I’m suddenly too sexy to wear anything more than leather pants and tight shirts.” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as he watched Erik try to come up with a proper reaction to his comment, their conversation interrupted by a waitress bringing the order to their table. She’d caught the tail end of Charles’s sentence, eyes glued on him as he looked up to politely thank her.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” she blurted. Erik didn’t hold back his laughter this time. The way Charles’s face was flushed from hairline to collar was simply priceless.

\---

If the morning session of filming was bad, the afternoon was even worse. Erik was sure that they wouldn’t be able to use any of the footage of himself in the viewing room. Charles wandered into every little second hand shop he could find, trying on an endless array of clothing and causing Emma to nearly break the wine glass in her hand. He smiled and waved to the camera in a vintage blue suit as the shop owner looked on in amusement.

“He’s mocking us. Look at him, he knows what he’s doing! No, don’t you dare pick up that cravat-he picked it up.” Emma sat her glass down on the small table beside her to stand and walk to the door. Erik caught her wrist. “Erik, let me go. I have to get to him before he makes things worse.”

“What happened to wanting to keep him? Is your new found friend suddenly less appealing?” He wasn’t entirely impressed by the little makeshift Austin Powers act Charles was currently putting on, but he had to respect the person who could drive Emma to her wits. “Let’s give him a little more time. After all you did just say that he knows what he’s doing.” Erik stole a glance at the screen, finding a little hope in what he saw. “Look, he’s just picked up a nice pair of brown shoes and they look like they’ve never been worn.” Emma dared to have a look for herself, returning to her seat when Charles compared the shoes to a tan jacket.

“That jacket would look very chic against his skin tone, what with that ridiculous ginger scruff he’s trying to pass off as facial hair. He’s nearly as bad as you when it comes to that.” She picked up her glass to finish off the wine before pouring herself more. “And since when have you gotten so soft about our victims, Erik? Don’t tell me you actually feel pity for the man having to deal with us when he’s the one committing the sins.” Emma eyed him. “Or maybe it’s something else.” Erik chose that moment to stand, pulling off his microphone and dropping it on the couch. That was one conversation he and Emma weren’t having, the show be damned. He skirted past an angry producer and out the door, getting the driver to take him to the street where the thrift store was located. Someone must have called ahead while he was in transit, he realized, a few crew members ambushing him to get a mike on him and do a couple of touch ups to the makeup on his forehead. At least Charles was pleased to see him, making it known by handing him a black turtleneck when he was finally turned loose.

“Go try this on. They said it was made in Italy and I really think it’s your style.” Bewildered, Erik allowed Charles to shove him into a curtained off cubicle.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one telling you what to wear?” He worked off his shirt, wishing that he’d thought to wear black socks that morning instead of navy. At least his jeans would cover the mismatch.

“Time to do something new. I tried it, you should too.” He poked his head in after a few minutes, blue eyes roaming over Erik’s lean frame. The turtleneck would have to be taken in at the waist to fit the way Erik preferred, but it was otherwise a perfect fit and far warmer than his previous shirt. Charles cleared his throat. “Looks good. You should get that.” He darted out, the sounds of the shop owner ringing him up following shortly after. Erik swore that he heard her ask if his boyfriend was doing well in there, possibly even the words “that handsome fellow who walked in a moment ago, should have seen the way your face lit up when you saw him,” but he was more than willing to ignore it when Charles corrected her. He bought the turtleneck and exited the shop with the goal of getting through the rest of the show with as much composure as he could muster.

When Emma arrived, he took his well deserved scolding from her and accepted his new assignment of taking care of the accessories Charles would need at the next stop. It wasn’t really punishment, but it did mean leaving Emma in charge of clothing the man with Erik’s interests in mind, and after his sudden exit earlier he was sure that she would use it to her advantage.

“Erik, would you please come here for a moment? I need your opinion on a shirt,” she crooned. Obviously she was still livid with him, seeing as that tone was only reserved for someone who was going to receive a verbal lashing at a later date. Instead of violence, however, Erik was presented with a little over five and a half feet of Professor Xavier in heavy boots, sturdy jeans, and a leather jacket. His mouth nearly started to water.

“I’m glad we didn’t go for the studded one. That’d be a little too glam for my tastes, I think. I’ll leave the ornamentation to you two.” He straightened his jacket, covering more of his grey tee. “I would prefer a little more color, though…ah, what’s that you have there, Erik?” Erik thrust the blue infinity scarf in his hands towards Charles, who looped it over his neck and went to check what it looked like. Emma grinned devilishly.

“You snake.”

“Think of this as payback for walking out on me and a reward for steering him in the right direction.” They took in the view of Charles from behind appreciatively. “I’m also not afraid of you in the least bit, so admitting that I half did this just to get a better look at his ass in a good pair of jeans is not a regret I’ll ever have. I just know when not to get attached.”

“Continue to hold that against me and I’ll walk out again.”

“It’s just a warning, Erik.” She brushed off the skirt of her clean white dress. “He’s like a rental tux on prom night, you only get to keep him for a little while and while you are free to customize your accessories, you’d better not sully him before he has to be returned.” Emma directed his attention to Charles, the man now surrounded by a few women who were enraptured by his talk about their unique mutations. He captured a lock of one woman’s hair and cheerfully rattled off some gene sequence as she nearly swooned and Erik bit his cheek.

“Yeah, I know.”

\---

Their evening was quieter, the three of them deciding that they were done looking at one another for any longer than they had to for the day and calling it an early night. They’d made up for their lack of usable footage earlier in the day by stopping by fewer places and having Charles try on more outfits. Erik nodded and grunted whenever he was asked to give his opinion, occasionally adding in a tip for the audience here or there that could be edited into a montage later. He didn’t expect for his behavior to come into question later that night when he was lounging on his couch with a beer and DVRed episodes of shows he needed to catch up on, much less in the form of a text on his personal line. The first text was deleted, being that it was from an unknown number, but after half an hour his phone chimed again with yet another message. Frustrated that someone was dead set on ruining his evening, he rang the mysterious messenger.

“I don’t know who you are or what you think happened today, but you’ve got the wrong number,” he growled.

“I don’t believe I do, actually,” a smooth accent answered back. Erik’s heart jumped to his throat and he wondered how Charles would have gotten his number in the first place, mouthing curses in Emma’s honor when he’d finally figured it out. “You seemed on edge after lunch today, I just wanted to make sure that I hadn’t offended you that badly with my shenanigans at the second hand stores. It was only a joke.”

“I know that. That wasn’t why I came down there.” He slouched back into his seat. “We’re using tomorrow morning to set up for your reveal party, you know. All the major work is done, we just have to film you modeling a few outfits while Emma and I explain why they work and send you on your way.” On the other end of the line, Charles softly sighed. Erik imagined that he was upset about leaving to ease his own suffering, however melodramatic even he thought it seemed. Emma had always warned him about his tendencies.

“But you’ll be at the big reveal, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“That’s not what I asked.” They kept quiet for a while, their televisions carrying a conversation on their own in their respective backgrounds. “I-it’s just that my sister is a big fan of the show and she’s an aspiring designer so she’s been messaging me all day about the show.”

“I’ll be there, Charles. For your sister at the least, as long as she isn’t as badly dressed as you are.”

“Were, thanks to you.” There was another pause before Charles’s line started to cut out. “That’s her calling. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Good night, Charles.” Erik clutched his bottle a little tighter.

“Good night, Erik.” As the line went dead, Erik let his phone hang up and fall to the couch as he tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. For being the quickest participant to transform, Charles was starting to become more trouble than any other guest had ever been.


	3. Chapter 3

Filming would finish today, and Charles would be gone for good. No more pouty red lips puckering at him whenever he commanded that some scrap of fabric needed to go back on the rack. No more throaty laughter at Emma’s biting comments to the employees at little boutiques when they lead them to the wrong size. No more quiet moments alone in little cafes or stores in intimate situations where Erik could say one thing and Charles would break into brilliant smile.

This episode would be over, and Erik would have to go on to do other shows where he’d have to deal with guests who would dull in comparison to Charles Xavier. Charles Xavier, who was a beloved professor to ninety five students and brother to a sister who wanted more for the man because he was just that important. Erik laid in bed that morning wondering what made Charles interested in studying genetics, his alarm hours away from going off and the city outside quieter than he’d ever remembered it being before. Did he want to cure some genetic disease that had plagued his family, or maybe a friend? Did he wish to help solve world hunger with some sort of genetically-engineered super crop? Or maybe he wanted to perfect cloning. Thoughts of clones lead to thoughts of two Charles’s, twin temptations with a penchant for over-sized sweaters and kiss swollen lips that threatened to make him soil his freshly laundered sheets. He sighed. Would Charles also be awake thinking of him at this hour?

No, that was unlikely. Charles was probably asleep. He had to go into the studio even earlier than Erik and Emma for last minute alterations, and would most likely be the same sleepy mess he was the previous morning while begging for coffee and stumbling about. Erik could go he considered; he could pick Charles up and take him for coffee, maybe even get a few more stories about Charles’s personal life in that gravely accent as they cruised about. What would Charles say? Would his sister come up in conversation again, or was she just an excuse for Charles to want Erik around? Erik groaned and turned onto his stomach to bury his face in the pillow. Charles presented him with too many questions, and yet he’d only known the man for almost four days if he didn’t count all he knew from the videos. He missed the days when he wasn’t lusting over him, when he could manage to get a little sleep before a long day at work in which he’d just have to go pick up a homely science professor. All Erik wanted was a little more time to see if Charles had potential with him to be more than just someone from the show. Erik wasn’t a romantic. He didn’t want people, he just wanted to make them look their best so that he didn’t have to suffer whenever he looked at them.

Charles was different. He wanted Charles. He wanted Charles as his own, and he wanted to dress him so he could show him off as someone worthy of his attention because he was just so…so compelling. That was the goal of the show, to make people as attention-grabbing as possible so they stood high above others, because no matter how much berating they took from the hosts they were people who made a difference in the world. They were important and they had to feel and show that. Charles already had one part down before they got to him, but he’d absorbed their teachings so fervently and dared to challenge them with his wit so much that he’d even overpowered Erik’s barriers and wormed his way in. He knew what to do with his charms and how to turn them onto others in defense, and that was what had lead to Erik’s downfall and current insomnia.

He could have taken Charles to coffee and alterations that morning. Erik could have once again watched him strip down to almost nothing and pull on clothes that made him look like a model rather than an instructor and listened to him go into a fit of giggles whenever someone touched him just so. There could have even been another moment like the ride there in which Charles fell asleep on him, entirely trusting of a man who would be in charge of changing a section of his life and would take even near violent measures to make sure he obeyed every rule. Erik could have taken him in and had Charles in his sights for every moment from then until the end of the grand reveal that evening, after which he’d have to leave so that he could go back to his normal life of fashion.

He could have taken Charles to coffee. He chose not to.

\---

Angel had taken the time to touch up Charles’s hair and trim up his beard before he dressed for filming. Erik noticed that his old watch was still in place on Charles’s wrist, but the links and face were meticulously polished to look like new. Erik had owned the thing for years, and even though he’d taken care of it well enough in that time, it had never looked as cherished as it was on Charles. Charles rolled his shoulders and reached to straighten his candy striped tie glancing over at Erik with a sleepy grin.

“You look well put together. Probably because you had the advantage of extra sleep,” he teased. Erik frowned, reaching to pluck a small bit of fluff from the shoulder of the jacket. His fingers curled around the back of Charles’s neck to stroke the little bit of skin between his collar and hairline. It was smoother than he’d expected, but before he dared to touch him again he forced himself to pull away.

“Not really. You’re looking pretty well put together yourself, and look, you got to keep color. Aren’t you a happy professor.” The gold buttons complimented the gears of the watch, which turned and ticked on their own as Erik struggled not to obsess over the fact that Charles was still wearing it. He could have bought more watches with the budget their show gave him, and yet he’d decided to keep it. Erik wanted to know why, his stare attempting to bore holes into the face of it with such intensity that he didn’t catch himself gripping Charles’s wrist until it was pulled away from him by Emma.

“Not really,” Charles murmured. Emma lead Charles back into another room in preparation for filming, her eyes narrowing when Erik started to follow. He stopped, then headed to his chair to await filming. The cameras rolled once Emma was at his side and Charles made his way out to them and the three way mirrors with an easy stride. Erik stood first to approach him followed by an ever-watchful Emma who stopped him before he got too close. She had always been the one who wanted to do the final outfit analysis in one take, and she would murder Erik before she’d allow him to ruin her perfect record.

“So Charles, do you feel more like a professor in this? You actually look like one now,” she started. Charles smiled and nodded, readjusting his collar and puffing out his chest. “Erik, why don’t you explain why this outfit works on him.” He glanced at Emma dumbly before recovering with a clearing of his throat.

“The color of the jacket paired with the reds in his pocket square and tie bring out the color of his beard, which contrasts with his dark hair. This brings out his eyes, which are a very, uh, peculiar shade of blue. His best feature, I’d say, and bringing out one’s best feature is sure to earn you the the attention you deserve for your position.”

“What about his slacks?” Emma pointed down, Erik following her direction with a nod.

“They’re simple and dark, a staple for any man’s wardrobe. They can easily be paired with any color of shirt and shoe, as evidenced by Charles here. If it isn’t too hard for him to do it, you unfortunate viewers at home who can’t afford our help can do it too. If nothing else, use a white shirt as a base just as Charles has and put all your color into the rest of your outfit. This rule applies to tees, polos, and jeans as well. Charles, turn around so we can show the fit from the back.” Erik very nearly bit his tongue when Charles glanced up at him after turning. “It’s much easier from the back to see the taper of the blazer. A good fit will make your shoulders look a little broader, which in turn can make you look taller. Charles, you’ll need every inch you can get.”

“Hey!”

“He’s right, sugar. Now go get your next outfit on. We’re on a tight schedule today and I’m sure you don’t want to miss your party tonight.” She thumped Charles on the back and hurried him off to change, then focused her attention on Erik as the cameras went on standby. “You’re holding up well for someone who had to run through makeup for a little longer than usual. You should have used an eye cream if you were going to forgo sleeping last night.”

“Emma, now isn’t the time.”

“Then when is?”

“Then day when I have to be anything less than professional on set is the right time, and only then. It’s never going to happen, so we should just drop it.” To Erik’s relief, Charles returned in a different ensemble to cut their conversation short, waiting for their approval about his choices. Erik didn’t take much time to think about what he said, nor did he remember any of it after Charles left to dress for a final time. Emma’s warning from the previous day rung in his head: Charles was temporary, just like everyone else who’d ever been on their show, even if he was brilliant and sexy. Erik would just have to live with that fact. The last outfit was the one Charles had put together with Erik’s help after the spat with Emma, only this time he whipped out his glasses from his jacket pocket and put them on.

“I call this one my “hot for teacher” look. Nice slacks, casual shirt and jumper, interesting jacket, and my glasses for when I have to attempt to read Billy Kaplan’s handwriting during grading. The best bit’s the jacket, I think.” He grinned up at Erik as always, seeking praise or at least a little snark. Erik knew that he had to chose his words carefully while the camera was running.

“I bet they’ll think so too. Now, the reason why this jacket works is because…” Charles’s face fell some when Erik started to go on about the jacket, as if he’d expected him to say more about his looks. Charles hadn’t seemed so vain before, so what had changed? Then again, Erik had seen this sudden change in behavior from other participants who liked their new look. It wasn’t his job to praise them for a job they should have already been doing, that would come from from their friends and family at the reveal. No matter how personal the transformation of Charles’s style seemed, it wasn’t as special as Erik wanted to make it seem in his mind. “Is this what you’re wearing to the party tonight?”

“Yeah. It’s simple enough, and I want my students to get used to seeing me like this is in a class setting. That’s why we’re having it in my lecture hall. Are you wearing that?”Charles pointed at Erik’s button up and tie, wrinkling his nose a little at the tie bar. “Because I think it’d be really nice if you wore that turtleneck we got the other day.” Erik tried to subtly signal for the cameras to stop rolling, but damned Emma Frost overrode his commands and pressed on. He sighed.

“Fine, alright, I’ll wear that, but that means I have to go home and change before I go. You’re taking all the blame if we’re late and Emma complains.”

“Gladly. Now, as you guys have been telling me for the last few days, hurry up and change out of that dreary bunch of rags you call clothing so we can get going.” Emma laughed for once as if she didn’t care that it would most likely make it to the final cut, patting Charles on the back. Erik grumbled and got out of his mike to hand it off to a crew member once the take was done, nearly out the door when he was caught by Charles. “I’m already packed and all, so would you mind terribly if I rode over to yours with you and wait while you change? Maybe give me one last lesson in the finer points of fashion?” He sounded hopeful, and as tempting as it would be, Erik wasn’t sure that he would be able to handle Charles snooping about his place without a strained relationship resulting from their time alone together.

“I don’t think that’d be the best idea. You should just ride over with Emma in the limo to pick me up. I’ll only be a moment, these jeans and shoes should be fine with the turtleneck.” He watched Charles frown once again and run his fingers through his hair like always.

“…alright. We’ll save you a seat then. See you soon, Erik.” Charles reached for Erik’s hand, but before he could grab it Erik turned and walked away. There wasn’t any time left for sentiments between them.

\---

Erik woke to a comfortable weight in his lap and the click of Emma’s phone camera going off in the seat across from him. He blinked open his eyes, trying to focus on his co-host through a tuft of dark hair on the edges of his vision.

“I’ve got a wonderful photo to send to your mother when I have the time. She’ll be thrilled.” Something big had happened while he was sleeping, Erik assumed, probably another one of her little tricks. At least he wasn’t in a blue dress again.

“Get your suitcase off of me. I’m not a mule, we’ve talked about this.”

“It’s cute how you think my suitcase would actually be heavy enough to keep you down, but I’m afraid you’ve made the wrong assumption yet again. I can’t believe that you don’t even realize what you’ve got there when your arm is clearly wound around his waist.” Plastered to Erik’s chest was one small and sleeping professor, his hair a mess from nuzzling up right under Erik’s chin and his legs stretched out on the rest of the seat. He looked quite comfortable, and Erik struggled to remember when they’d situated themselves into that position.

“What-“

“Don’t worry, you were asleep first and I told him that you wouldn’t mind if he napped on you for a while as long as he didn’t drool on his turtleneck. He seemed awful unsure, and then he held your hand for a while until you tried to pull him closer in your sleep. Somehow that was enough permission for him to climb into your lap and go dead to the world for a few hours. Maybe he thought he’d wake up in time to keep you from finding out, but I wonder why he’d want to do something like that. Still, I have a picture if you want it later.” Erik grumbled and shifted, stilling when Charles whimpered against him and held to his shirt, mumbling out what he thought was a chemical equation or maybe a gene sequence. With his free hand, he reached for his coat to drape over Charles’s shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. It’ll all be over by today, and I’m sure he’s going to head straight to the person he’s been wanting to impress the most right after we get him in.”

“We’ll see in five minutes, then. You two managed to sleep through most of the trip, lucky bastards.” Emma was starting to look ready for a drink, like she always did whenever they were close to the end of an episode. They’d probably have a dinner to celebrate their success before heading back home, one without Charles this time. He was already dreading it. “I’m ready to get in, get the shots, and get out. I doubt that we’ll be able to help everyone in that room, because I saw a few people who were worse off than he was.”

Erik ignored Emma as she rambled on about one of the professors she’d seen in on the way to Charles’s class in favor of listening to Charles sigh softly against him. He’d chosen to wear a cologne he remembered Charles liking on him, even though he’d swore to himself that he’d stop trying to subtly seduce the man now that Emma had found him out. One more try couldn’t have hurt, he decided that morning, and it had obviously worked if Charles had crawled into his lap to sleep. Then again, maybe Charles was a cuddler and saw where he could take advantage when Emma wouldn’t allow it. His mind traveled down that path, leading him to imagine cool mornings in his apartment with Charles curled around him and pleading him to stay in bed with coaxing lips at his collarbone. He knew that Charles preferred pajamas after his little trip to pull him out of bed the previous morning, but what about after a long and intimate night of sex? Would he mind being in the nude if Erik was there to keep him warm? Erik must have shifted, because Charles was stirring a moment later.

“Whe’rewe?” He rubbed one of his eyes, huffing out a sigh through his nose before yawning. Erik took his chances and fixed Charles’s sleep rumpled hair. “Thank you, darling.” His head fell back onto Erik’s shoulder as the car slowed to a stop.

“We’ve made it, Charles. Time to get off the skinny consultant you’ve been using as a bed and inside for your party,” Emma advised,the comment fully waking Charles from his stupor to examine where he’d been sleeping.

“Oh my-I’m really sorry, Erik. I didn’t mean to…” He cleared his throat and slid off Erik’s lap, Erik biting back a little noise when ass met crotch. At least that wasn’t happening again, he thought with some regret. When Charles noticed the extra coat around his shoulders, he shuffled deeper into it before reluctantly pulling it off and handing it over. “You have a bike too? This looks like the one I’ve seen on a student of mine who has a motorbike.” Erik nodded, taking it back and pulling it on. “Goes well with that turtleneck. Careful, I might be around to threaten your job.”

“You already do a good enough job of that. Now go, you look fine and everyone is waiting on you. We’ll follow in.” Erik reached over Charles to open his door, scooting close enough to pin their hips together. “You’ll do fine, don’t look so nervous. The worst you could do is trip on your way in.”

“You’d be there to catch me if I did, though.” Charles leaned closer to Erik’s face with a grin, licking his lips. “Wouldn’t you?” There were merely inches between their faces, noses close to touching. Erik naturally started to tilt his face to fit a little more comfortably, ready to close the space between them until Emma slammed her door closed on her exit. They jumped apart, Erik attempting to melt into the door on the other side of the limo.

“Yeah. Just go.” Charles nodded and scrambled out, making his way into the building before Erik even made an attempt to get out. He felt entirely too wound up, but he’d promised Charles that he would attend the party just to meet his sister. If he did nothing else for the man, he’d at least honor that wish.

By the time he got in Emma was already shaking hands with the woman he assumed she’d been trying to tell him about in the limo. She was a brunette with shoulder length hair, and at her side was none other than the professor himself. From what he’d actually caught of Emma’s rant, he could tell that she was right: the woman would most likely look better with a bob than the style she had now. Charles didn’t seem to care about that, though, he was just happy to be back at her side. Erik’s chest felt tight with jealousy, scanning the room to see how many other people were watching. Everyone else was preoccupied with drooling over their teacher or friend, all but a young blonde in a lace dress who made her way to Erik.

“You’re Erik Lehnsherr, right? I’m a huge fan, and I want to thank you for helping my brother out. He’s hopeless on his own, sometimes he forgets to eat unless I put a plate in front of him and a fork in his hand.” Something about her was familiar, but he wasn’t sure if it was her eyes or just her frankness. “You do know who I am, right? Did you guys even watch the tapes or-“

“Right, yes, you’re Raven. Charles’s sister.” Raven quirked an eyebrow in a near perfect mimicry of her brother. “We did watch the tape, had no choice to after throwing out his wardrobe.” She burst into laughter, bright and warm almost like Charles’s. He ached again.

“Please say that was taped. I need to see that, seriously. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble, not that you two couldn’t handle him, but he’s like a child when scolded. As smart and accomplished as he is, Charles needs someone to look after him.”

“He was in very capable hands the entire time. You can see the results in six months or so. This will probably be the finale episode for the season, seeing as he’s the best turnaround we’ve had. Your family has some remarkable genes, you know.” Erik started to look around for a drink, suddenly feeling parched when the woman kissed Charles’s cheek and the man belted out into laughter. His sister looked around Erik to shake her head at him.

“If that’s your way of saying you think he’s hot, you really need some work on your technique.” Her words were shocking, leaving Erik stumbling over words in his head as he tried to find the best way to refute her statement. Raven giggled again. “Really, you don’t have to deny it. A lot of people think Charles is gorgeous, he just didn’t care to acknowledge it when there was science to be done and papers to grade. I’m sure he’ll be thinking about it every day now. Thanks for making it that much harder to get out of the bathroom in the morning, he’ll be hogging the mirror for hours trying to sculpt that scruff on his face.”

“As long as he doesn’t look like a mountain man afterwards, I think I can accept the blame without many regrets.” Erik stole a flute of champagne from a wandering attendant, starting to wonder where they came from. The producers never paid for more than they had to, and the parties were always furnished by the family. “Then again, with a party like this, why would you have only one bathroom in your house?”

“You caught me.” Raven glanced over at her brother again, then turned her attention back to Erik. “We’ve got the money to afford a decent wardrobe for him, but really, what good would that do if he couldn’t dress himself to save his life? I wanted the best consultants I could get, and my boyfriend is his TA so he put the idea in their heads to help me get him on. If he had to be on television to get the job done, then so be it. We’re all reaping the benefits of it, I’d like to think. Charles gets a nice wardrobe and a well deserved vacation, you and Emma get ratings for the show, and I get to meet my idols. Everyone else gets a little bit of eye-candy when they go to class or work everyday, I suppose.” She grabbed a glass for herself when the next tray went around. “I guess we all got what we wanted, that is.”

“I suppose so.” He stole another look at Charles and his entourage of flustered students and coworkers. “He’ll stick with it, I suspect. I didn’t believe that he could be so vain until I got him out in a store on the first night.”

“What more can I say about my brother? The right motivation can be the greatest inspiration for the man. He likes to conserve his energy for greater efforts.” Charles laughed loudly at something his companion had said or done, entirely too happy for Erik’s comfort.

“Then I don’t think it’s up to me to keep watching him when he’s clearly passed my tests. It was lovely to meet you, Raven. I’ll send along an autograph with your copy of the episode. Good luck on your studies, you seem to be very up to date with the latest trends and all.” Erik dropped his glass off on the nearest table and brushed past Emma to announce his departure before she or Charles could stop him. He thought he heard Charles calling his name just as the door closed, but he knew better than to linger on wishes that would remain unfulfilled. Charles was just another person who’d been on his show, worn the clothes they told him to, and would go home to lead a more fashion savvy life with whomever he found on the dating scene because of it.

Erik was just going to count himself lucky for performing another miracle. He just regretted that it involved getting close to Charles Xavier.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gets a bit nsfw at the end, just a heads up.

The season finale aired to the most viewers that “Not Wearing That You Won’t” had ever had in it’s four years on air. iTunes had never had such an overwhelming demand for an episode to be available for purchase, and the numbers they were getting from Amazon and Hulu were overwhelming. Email, Facebook, Twitter, and the neglected Tumblr set up by one of bored interns suddenly blew up with questions and requests to see more of the young professor who’d been on recently, since they hadn’t done any sort of update on him like they usually did with their guests. There was even a section of the internet devoted to the suggested sexual tension between Erik and Charles that continued to write stories about what they two had gotten up to in the dressing room on their night alone for weeks after the episode’s airing. Some even sent copies of their stories to Erik via fan mail, but every letter went directly into his shredder without even being opened or read. Erik didn’t speak about the episode in interviews, angering quickly whenever anyone even brought up Charles or his surprising reputation of coming from a filthy rich and high class family. It felt like that much more of a betrayal, as if Erik should have known who he was before he went on the show.

Emma probably did, he figured, but just neglected to tell him because he wouldn’t know or care either way. How was Erik to know? He hadn’t lived in the United States for longer than ten years now, and the last half of this year had been spent pining over Charles which was the only way he’d found out. Raven had said they were rich, but he was so ready to be done with everything having to do with the man that he’d never even though to look him up. That wouldn’t have changed his attraction towards Charles, although he wished that it would so he wouldn’t have to spend every night wondering what the other man was doing and who he was doing it with. Erik threw himself into his work, attending Fashion Week in every city that he could and working on his tie bar collection, merchandise and personal, hoping to finally clear his head of every though pertaining to Professor Xavier.

When Emma suggested that they do a live special, he didn’t think anything of it before agreeing. There were plenty people that they could focus on then, and with Emma’s record for perfection any time they filmed, he was going to have to focus that much harder. It would be the perfect opportunity to distract himself with all the buzz about Charles going around, and he’d even be in his element. The night before they were set to film, Erik rifled through his wardrobe for the perfect outfit. He chose his favorite jeans, dark and tailored to fit against his long legs as close as possible, a nice black belt with a faux snake skin print, and his usual black watch. As he was searching for the perfect shirt to complete the outfit, one of the hangers fell from the rack and onto his foot. Erik knelt to pick it up, narrowing his eyes at it.

The turtleneck hadn’t been worn since the party, shoved in between shirts he meant to donate and others that would be auctioned off for charity. If it weren’t for his obsession with making sure everything was clean before it went into his closet, he wouldn’t have even washed it, but it had taken its place in his closet along with the rest of his clothing and now made itself known once again. It slumped in a pathetic heap when placed on his bed, looking as dejected as he felt about it.

“The feeling is mutual.” Erik straightened it out on the bed with the rest of his clothing, finding that it perfectly matched what he’d laid out. It’s solid black color meant that he could wear almost any sock that he desired with his shoes, leaving them as his pop of color in his outfit. And he had really wanted to have a reason to wear those magenta and purple socks he’d gotten as a gift from Mr. Stark at London Fashion Week. “Fine, you can go, but if you cause me any trouble tomorrow, I will run you through the industrial shredder and send you to Mama as mulch for her garden.” He quickly shook his head at the predicament, silently scolding himself for carrying on a conversation with a turtleneck. It would probably be the most ridiculous thing to happen to him for the next week.

\---

Erik spotted Charles’s friend on his way to his dressing room fixing her lipstick, and he thought nothing of it until he spotted Emma through an open door fixing her own and patting a touch of foundation onto her neck. She smirked at him as he stood in the doorway.

“Oh don’t give me that look. If it helps, her name is Moira and she isn’t cheating on anyone. At least, it’d be in her best interests not to.”

“I see you convinced her to get that bob. She seemed fairly defensive about her hair when I last saw her. How did you do it?” Emma stood and straightened her dress, then approached him.

“I told her that she could hide the marks with a scarf or choker, then I took her to Cartier. It was simple, you should take notes.” She patted his arm. “You have five minutes to do something about that scowl. If you get one more wrinkle before we go on, I’m replacing you with someone younger.”

“You wouldn’t, because then you’d have to train them in interpreting Emma Frost’s hums to gauge when to get the victim away before they become an actual victim.”

“I’ve taught you well, then. See you on stage, Erik.” She left him to do a quick touch up on his hair before he had to hurry off, and when he was given the signal he strode out onto the stage as calmly and collected as possible. Emma did the introductions, giving an explanation of what would happen on the show that day and leaving Erik to scan the audience for people to make over. He already had his first choice picked out, a lanky man in glasses, when Emma announced that they’d be bringing on one of their most talked about guests as an assistant for today’s show. Erik nearly started to foam at the mouth, whipping his head around to glare at Emma as she offered a hand to their newest co-host with an unnaturally warm smile.

And damn, was he hotter than Erik had remembered. Bright blue and patterned trousers, a black polo layered over a white tee, and a blue scarf that brought that extra pop to his eyes Erik fondly remembered. The man greeted Emma before sidling up to Erik with the biggest smile he’d ever seen.

“Hello, Erik. It’s been a while.” Charles gave him a cheeky wink while the cameras were too busy getting Erik’s reaction. He was sure that the harassing fan mail was only going to get worse after that day. The show went on despite his shock, both men and women filing onto the stage for styling tips and makeovers. Erik paid careful attention to his work, not letting Charles distract him in the least, especially when Emma suggested that Charles test his new-found skills for analyzing fashion on Erik. They put him on the very same spot that they’d been using at the front of the stage to showcase the faults and strengths of everyone else, making him feel like some sort of show dog. He now understood why everyone felt so nervous to be under his and Emma’s scrutiny. Charles started off behind him.

“Go on. I doubt you could be any worse than myself or Emma.”

“I hardly have to be. You’re an easy enough study,” Charles started, framing one of Erik’s hips with a cupped hand. Erik did his best to keep his cheeks from going too pink. “Black is a safe color, and so are dark jeans. The trick is making sure everything fits, which you are diligent about if I remember correctly. You have to because you’re so lean, but that really doesn’t excuse how tight you wear your jeans. I don’t know how you even get into those things.” He caught a belt loop under his thumb, giving it a tug. “But they are sturdy in construction, so I have faith that they’d hold up should you get into a rough spot and need to move quickly. That’s what the belt’s for too, I suppose. It’s rather lovely, what brand is it?”

“Ralph Lauren,” Erik blurted, his voice starting to rasp. He was thankful that it didn’t crack.

“Hm,” he nodded in approval, freeing his thumb and giving Erik’s hip a pat. “See, audience? A good belt is always worth the investment. The money you save from not constantly buying new ones mean you can splurge at second hand stores, which is where this came from, I think. It doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen in the magazines or on the runways lately.” Erik couldn’t help flushing all the way to his ears. The moment at the thrift store hadn’t made it to the final cut of the episode, so Erik was certain that Charles was using it against him, but he was unsure as to the reason why. It hit him right then that maybe Charles knew about his little crush and all the times that Erik had taking advantage of fantasizing about him in his various states of dress, so he could have been using that moment to get him back for it. He had to answer now or let Charles make a fool of him, so Erik steeled himself and hardened his expression.

“It was. I had it tailored and laundered. It’s Italian.”

“A timeless piece, never out of fashion. Great with a nice black loafer and leaves you free to wear whatever sock you want, such as your bright number there.” He chuckled and pointed to Erik’s socks, resting his hand on Erik’s chest when their attention was occupied. He was quick to move it when they were focused upon again. “Black makes people look slimmer, and on you it just makes you look sharper, leaner, taller. You tower over everyone else and stand as a commanding figure, and if that isn’t intimidating enough, one would only need to dare to look you in the eyes. They’re green when you’re angry or intimidated, I’ve noticed, blue when you’re bored. Probably when you’re sad too, although I doubt that happens often.” Charles got onto his toes to bring himself closer to Erik’s ear, clasping his hands around their microphones to keep them from catching his final whispered words. “They’re grey when you’re happy or calm. I remember that well.” He settled back on his heels with a grin. “Although, they’re green now, so you must be quite annoyed with me. I think I’ll leave the rest of this to Emma and take a seat to enjoy the rest of the show. This has been lovely, but I think I should leave the rest of the show to the professionals.” The audience laughed as Charles waved to them and returned to his seat, leaving Erik dazed where he stood.

Emma somehow got him back into their usual routine and finished up the show with the results of one of their transformations from earlier. Angel had put the final touches on the woman’s hair and makeup, presenting her to the audience with her new look. They clapped and cheered for her, but Erik’s attentions were on Charles’s now empty seat. There weren’t very many places that Charles could have gotten to in such a short amount of time unless he ran, but knowing Charles he might have run from Erik the very same way Erik ran at the end of his reveal party. He could call after the show, he assumed, but maybe the point was that he didn’t. Once the filming portion of the show ended, let his assistant help him out of his wires and hand him a coffee. Sean wasn’t good for much sometimes, but the kid was snarky as hell and knew when to stay out of the way if he needed to. Erik had to remember to dump his spare movie premiere tickets on the boy sometimes. He made his way to his dressing room for some time alone before he had to go out and sign things for the brainless and stylistically challenged masses. What he failed to notice until the door slammed shut and locked behind him was the presence of another person in the room.

“You see, Erik, I haven’t been entirely honest with you. I haven’t always been so careless about my looks, but when I started teaching and publishing papers I got do wrapped up in work that I didn’t have time to think of what I looked like. Raven brought it up to me one summer on the couch while we were watching her favorite show, and I didn’t think much of it until I saw you. Let’s just say that I was a little inspired by the angry man on the telly with too many teeth.” As soon as Erik turned to meet the man behind the voice, Charles pinned him to the vanity with his hips. “I asked her if she thought I could be on, and she told me that I’d have to really just give up on myself to make it. So I might have stopped trying all together, I don’t really remember.” Charles rolled his hips up slowly, throwing his arms around Erik’s neck as he started to go erect against him.

“So this was a game to you?”

“No, you mustn’t think of it like that. Call it curiosity, and I did sorely need the help to get back on track. I almost wore a shirt that said, ‘Baby got Ba C K’ on it once, with the elements and everything. Raven made me burn it, it was really a shame too because I got it at science camp when I was fourteen an-mmph!” Erik cut Charles short with a kiss, deciding that he’d have to take his chance then if he didn’t want to hear about any other terrible shirts Charles had been hiding. They kept their hips going at a steady rhythm, rutting against one another slowly as their cocks started to harden. Just as Erik’s hand had a firm grasp on Charles’s ass through his wonderfully tailored trousers, Charles pulled away from the kiss. Erik caught a swollen lip in his teeth, shivering at the moan it inspired from Charles. “And when I asked about your jeans earlier, I was rather hoping that I could have a lesson in how to get in them myself. I hope your underwear isn’t as dark as your jeans, because I’m fairly certain that you can’t get away with me staining those and passing it off as an accident involving the foam on your coffee.”

“Funny that you happened to mention how well black goes with everything. I’ve got my white jeans on the rack in here as backup.” Charles smiled and gave Erik another kiss, working his belt open.

“Well then, let’s see how well your color theory holds up, hm?”


End file.
